


Magic Fingers

by tonystarking



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystarking/pseuds/tonystarking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus gets his rocks off by watching old Dehtklok footage. Yeah, there’s masturbating in this. Inspired by the thought that Magnus is ambidextrous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Fingers

He could watch it on television, but it wasn’t the same. Hearing the roar of a crowd secondhand through speakers wasn’t as fascinating or as riveting as it had been to hear them screaming his name all those years ago.

_Magnus! Magnus! Mangus!_

Their voices would form a chant, lifting him up and up to a high that not even the drugs backstage could get him to.

And now? Silence. Nothingness. An empty apartment that he afforded by doing piece of shit gigs like Rockarooney Camp, or whatever the fucking thing of the week’s name was. He had never felt more like a whore.

Revenge is coming, he had promised. Yeah, on a shit paycheck from not enough freelance gigs to even get him a good doctor to see about his eye.

He could still remember it, though—the roar of the crowd. Even now, he could close his eyes and hear them chanting. Fuck the television, fuck the recordings of old Dethklok shows, fuck it all. His right hand found the remote and he cranked up the volume. They were screaming so loud, he couldn’t hear Nathan speaking some in between song dialogue.

Chanting and screaming over and over  _Dethklok Dethklok Dethklok_  until it became sounds without actual words, and Magnus felt himself becoming hard over something he hadn’t heard in ages.

The TV was up so loud the fuckers next door would probably complain, but he didn’t care right now. Right now he couldn’t even think about that, not over the sound of  _them_  crying for Dethklok.

He ran a hand down his chest and unzipped his pants, coaxing out his cock and stroking himself as he slid down on the couch. He closed his eyes and listened to the screaming, remembering it firsthand and how it used to be  _his_  name on their lips and how they had pawed for  _him. He_  had been the fastest guitarist alive, and as he stroked, his fingers remembered the complex keys to the Dethklok songs that he had even taught that little shit Skwisgaar. He had always been good with his hands.

He reached for a cigarette he had neglected to stub out, still lit and smoking. He changed hands, stroking with his opposite and pressing the cigarette to his lips with the other.

He also remembered the groupies, fingering them with the same precision he would a fretboard. Their cries were more stifled, not nearly as loud as the entire crowd, but it was the crowd who had gotten him hard and the groupies who helped him satiate himself.

He took in a deep breath as the screams of the crowd around him grew louder.  _Dethklok Dethklok Dethklokdethklokdethklokdeth—_

It was all he needed to hear. He let out a loud moan as he came and let himself revel as relaxation shot through his veins. His limbs felt lighter as he took the cigarette from his mouth and blew out smoke rings. He’d have to clean himself up, but for now—

And then he heard it on the television. It wasn’t a recording. It was a live showing.

“Skwisgaar! Skwisgaar! Skwisgaar!”

They were crying that little asswipe’s name, and later they’d go finger themselves to his image and his guitar playing and  _his_ band, not Magnus’ anymore. It made him sick.

He rushed to his feet and grabbed the edge of the television, so old it was large and cumbersome. He shoved it over with all his might, screaming a curse and stomping from the room to relieve himself from the shame of having cum to a band that had abandoned him.

But on the television screen through the static was clearly a little Magnus standing next to a little Skwisgaar in white, and Skwisgaar was looking proud of completing his first solo as Magnus stood beside him. If the present day Magnus had looked harder, he would have noticed that this Magnus was proud of Skwisgaar nailing the notes he had taught him.

But that was not something Magnus would notice.


End file.
